jijini
by GayCultureBeToSuffer
Summary: jnk
1. Prologue

"Daphne, at this rate, I'm going to be late," I complained. My stepmom ignored me, her enormous grin never faltering. I couldn't call her 'mom' yet-I didn't think of her as one at all. My real mother was a warrior and a hero. Daphne once teared up over a teared leather jacket. I have no respect for his woman.

"Look at your little uniform! Just one more picture, I swear! Oh honey, I can't believe you're _finally_ going to Watford! Your father and I are very proud of you," Daphne gushed, placing her hand on my father's chest. Both of them stared at me with pride. I couldn't blame them; I was quite handsome when I finally saw myself in the mirror.

Not to mention, I'm the first non-living person to ever be accepted into the school. That might be my biggest achievement so far, and I'm not even a student there yet.

Daphne went on. "He's so handsome, isn't he, Malcom?" My father nodded with a grin. "Yes. With him around, forget all the other boys' chances of ever finding a girlfriend, he'll steal them up," he chuckled. Daphne reached over and smoothed a lock of hair that fell out of place. "Yes. He's going to break a _lot_ of girls' hearts."

 _I sincerely doubt that's going to happen._

When I arrive at Watford in the backseat of Fiona's car, my stepmother turned and faced me with a tired smile. "It's time, I suppose. At least now, we'll only have to worry about one critter around the house." She rubbed her large stomach lovingly. My sister only had a month left before I got to meet her.

I smiled back, only at her stomach. "See you at Christmastime, Daphne." "Take care, Baz!"

I left the car and went around into the back to pull out my trunk. When I got there, my father already had the suitcase in his arms. "Your mother would be very proud of you, Basilton," he whispered, handing the case to me and placing his hand on my shoulder.

He had tears in his eyes. Somehow, I knew he wasn't talking about Daphne.

I waved at the car until it was out of sight, then finally faced the school.

It was _way, way_ bigger than the pictures and descriptions. The gate alone was the height of my own house. And my house is a _mansion._

I pressed my hand against the gate. They were spelled to open only for a magickal person, never for Normals or monsters.

The thing is, I'm magickal _and_ a monster. Would I be accepted inside? Or would I be the first Pitch ever to be disqualified from the school?

The gates were silent. No movement. I began to grow wary. "Please work, _please_ work..." I begged. "It's not my fault I'm a vampire. Let me in, I promise I won't hurt anybody! I'll never bite a single person, I swear. But please, give me a chance, Watford..." I placed my forehead against the cool gates.

All of a sudden, I heard the creak of decades-old metal working to open the gate. I almost fell flat on my nose because it happened so quickly.

 _They opened for me_.

 _Mother, here I come._

The admission's process was the worst part. Most of the day was filled with practice spells, magic tests, and everything in between just so they could determine your predisposition of skill. I was tossed around from one building to another, each building testing some other magickal strength. For me, it was just a formality. I knew full well that I was the strongest wizard in the school.

By the time night fell, I was morbidly exhausted. I couldn't wait to climb into a bed. However, there was one more task for us-we all had to report to the courtyard. I desperately hoped it was not an icebreaker.

When I arrived, I saw about a hundred kids looking confused and tired. Some were leaning up against others, others they probably didn't even know. Some looked just as confused and hungry as I felt.

However, one boy stood out from the dazed crowd. And I recognized him instantly.

I'd seen pictures. I heard stories. But I never knew that the real thing would look so... _human._

Baggy jeans. A casual t-shirt- _where in Crowley's name is his uniform? He sticks out like a sore thumb._

His curly blonde hair was too long and fell over his eyes. He kept having to brush them aside.

His shoes were sneakers that looked way too big on him. To be honest, he looked like he climbed out of a dumpster.

But his _face-_ he stood out from all of them. He looked so expressionless, but tranquil. He had his back to the crowd, and he was staring up at the vast sky. His mouth parted in admiration for the stars. I did hear that the stars at Watford shone brighter than anywhere else, so I couldn't blame him.

If I'm honest, he was adorable.

But not adorable enough that I would go easy on him when it was time for him to die.

 _Simon Snow. The chosen one._

A sneer spread across my face.

"Children!" A man boomed, his deep voice laced with magic. I could feel it crackle when he spoke. "Welcome to Watford, the World of Mages!" He was old but happy; seemingly energetic but very, _very_ tired.

"Now that everyone is here, allow me to introduce myself. I am the Mage. I am headmaster of this school. I know that many of you youngsters must be exhausted, so I will explain this quickly.

"The Crucible is a piece of magic that will choose two children to be roommates for the rest of your time at Watford. It will see into you and discover who will be your best match for he years to come. Without further adieu, let the Crucible **begin**!"

His last word crackled with magic, much more potent than anything else. Suddenly, everyone heard a shriek from a little blonde girl. My eyes widened out of their sockets. Something was _pulling her-_ like something was holding her hand and dragging her forward. The girl dug her heels into the ground to try and stop it. From a distance, I heard the Mage chuckle.

Eventually, she stopped. She was in front of another girl, inches away from crashing into her. After a moment, the blonde girl began to laugh.

"Agatha Wellbelove and Dorothy Prince, you are the first to see the Crucible's magic! Now everyone, learn from Miss Agatha's experience and do not panic," he chuckled, earning laughs among the tired crowd and an embarrassed blush from the blonde girl. I glanced at Simon-he was staring at the girl, Agatha. He looked mesmerized. She looked at him, and her blush got even redder. I rolled my eyes. _What a simple boy, for a chosen one._

That's when I began to feel it. A tug. A pull from within me, like something was trying to break out of my ribcage. I tried to remain as poised and calm as physically possible, but it began to hurt, badly. I cautiously took a step in the direction of the pull, and the pain began to dissipate.

As effortlessly as I could, I strode forward. The pull lessened and lessened until... it stopped. It was over.

I looked up, and almost gasped out loud.

 _Simon bloody fucking Snow._

He was in front of me, flushed from the effort of trying to resist the magic. I looked around, praying that there was some mistake, but we were the last two. Everyone was staring at us.

 _Crowley, he looks better up close._

Simon's eyes were wide and surprised. He mindlessly stared at me in disbelief, as if he knew who I was. As if he knew how we were _destined_ to kill one another. How could he know, when he looks as if he crawled out of a mental institution a week ago and hasn't showered since?

I wondered what he would look like in a proper uniform, all clean and ready to learn. And Crowley, he needed a haircut. His curls were frizzy and covered his blue eyes too much.

"Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch and Simon Snow, our very own prodigies placed as roommates! The Crucible knows what it's doing," the Mage laughed, though he seemed unsettled and unsure. "I expect great things from you two!"

Simon quickly stuck out his hand, as if he had just remembered to do so. "H-Hi, my name is Simon Snow... it's n-nice to meet you, Tyrannus," he said, trying his hardest to maintain a confident smile.

I took it. "Likewise. And never call me Tyrannus again, I prefer Baz, alright, 'Chosen One'?"

Simon's smile went cold and he quickly retracted his hand. "Fine, Baz. In return, don't call me 'Chosen One.' Call me that, and I'll keep calling you Tyrannus."

I stuck mine in my uniform pockets. I raised my eyebrow with a smirk. "Fine. Simon Snow. Looks like it'll be a long 8 years."

Reluctantly, he looked back at me with a smile. "Apparently so."

If I weren't a Pitch, I would've started laughing right there. Not even ten minutes and we were already fighting. Aleister Crowley, this will only end in disaster.


	2. Year One

Our room was secluded from the rest of the others. It was in a tall tower, covered by several trees. At least I won't have to go far when I need to drink.

The beds looked old, like they'd been used for years and the only repairs they got were a changing of sheets and pillows. They looked creaky and weak as well, like if you jumped on it too hard, it would shatter.

Snow, of course, didn't take a moment to look before he leaped straight onto the bed, shoes and all.

"A bed! Finally!" He sighed happily, his voice muffled by the fluffy pillows.

I rolled my eyes. "Get changed first, or else the bed will get dirty." I opened my trunk, found my toiletries, and went into the bathroom. It had a bathtub. _Yes._

"I'm going to brush my teeth."

Simon lifted his head from the pillow. "I should too..." he stood up, toothbrush in hand, and started to walk toward the bathroom.

I raised my eyebrow. "Wait your turn. I'm going first."

Simon crossed his arms. "Can't we brush our teeth together? It'd save time. What's wrong?"

 _Fangs, Snow. Fangs._

I hesitated. "...You can go first. I don't care." I wasn't two steps towards my bed when I felt his hand clamp on my wrist.

"Wait, come on, Baz."

I looked at him. He looked upset. "Look, you can go first. I'm sorry if I made you feel weird or something..." he released his grip on my wrist and held out his hand, "...but if we're gonna be roommates, you can't be so mean. We got off on the wrong foot, yeah? But now, let's start over and be a team, okay?" His hand hovered in the air, waiting for me to take it.

I didn't. " _Team?"_ I scowled. "We're no team, Snow. Crowley, you're naive. You think we can be friends, knowing our families?"

"What's wrong with our families...?" His voice faltered. "I don't... I don't exactly have a-"

"The Mage, you dolt!" I shouted, throwing my hands in the air. "You're his heir! That man and the Pitches have been enemies for years. He put us together for a reason, Snow! Don't pretend you don't know that one day, we're going to **kill each other**!" I was screaming so fervently that I didn't realize I added magic to my last three words. They crackled in the air like invisible fireworks. I heard Simon suck in a breath, and the magic was gone.

The room went silent. Simon lowered his hand. "I didn't know that," he said, quietly. "I didn't know about the Mage and your family. I didn't know we would..." he didn't say the next words out of dear that he'd accidentally cast a spell like I did. "Baz, I didn't know any of that. I just wanted to be your friend."

For a moment, I felt sorry for him. I didn't know if he had any friends at all. But there was _no way_ he couldn't know after being around the Mage for more than two minutes. He hates my entire bloodline.

"...But if that's how you want it to be, then _fine._ " His hand clenched into a fist. I didn't bother to warn him about the Roommate's Anathema. That if he hit me, he'd never be allowed into Watford again.

"You're obviously a bloody jerk! I just wanted to be close to you! But now, I never want to be your friend, prick!" he spat, his eyes thick with ferocity. He looked like a toddler who had been denied a lollipop.

"Ooh, you kiss your mother with that mouth?" I chuckled. I decided it was quite fun seeing him angry.

" _ **I've never known my mother!**_ " He cried. The beds began to creak and shake in their posts. Textbooks flew off of the shelves, landing open-paged on the wooden floors. A lamp next to my bedside fell to the ground and shattered into pieces.

The air was heavy. It felt like a gust of wind flying into your face, so much that you couldn't inhale, even though it was still oxygen. Yet, you still feel like you're breathing.

Simon was still oozing magic. It flowed through his pores and out into the air. It made me feel so alive. I closed my eyes and drank it in.

 _This_ is why he's called the Chosen One. This is the most magic I've seen come out of a person. My outburst barely scratched the surface of this.

I looked at him when it started to fade. He had tears in his eyes. His body wracked with soft sobs and hiccups. My heart dropped.

"You're so cruel..." he sobbed. "Why are you so mean to me? I'm trying my best here... everyone wants me to be this great magician, but I don't care about that. One friend would be nice to have. One!" I opened my mouth to say something, anything to make him feel better, but he grabbed his toothbrush and ran to the bathroom, shutting the door without another word.

It took him a while before he actually left, so I went to another boy's room to brush my teeth before returning and climbing into bed, spelling the broken lamp back onto the table.

For the next thirty minutes, I heard quiet sobs escaping the room every couple of minutes or so. It was only during the last ten that I actually heard him brushing his teeth.

When he finally opened the door, his eyes were puffy and fiery. Even without my enhanced vision, it seemed like his eyes glowed in the dark. Angrily, he went into his bed, covering his entire body with the covers. He didn't make a sound.

A few moments passed. The room was deafeningly silent. _He must've fallen asleep._

"I'm sorry," I whispered into the silence. "I never knew my mother either. She died when I was a baby." I turned over to face Snow. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw him staring straight at me.

"I didn't know that," he whispered.

"You were supposed to be asleep."

Snow's eyes twinkled in the darkness. "Well, I'm glad I got an apology."

I turned over, away from him. "Don't think this makes us friends. We're still going to kill each other. Also, I hate you and the Mage."

Though, after that little episode, it was clear he'd easily kill me first.

I pulled the covers over my shoulders.

"He's not that bad. You just have to get to know him." Even Snow sounded unsure.

"Mmhm."

"...Baz?"

"Yes?"

"...Goodnight." I could hear the grin in his voice. _Simon bloody Snow._


	3. Year Two, Part One

"Absolute fucking _shit!"_

Snow was running shirtless around the room like a lunatic. Typical.

"Where is my shirt? Where is my notebook? Baz, help me!"

"I'm not fending for your ass," I sneered, finishing up my tie. I could do it in two minutes with my eyes closed. It took Snow fifteen in front of a mirror, screaming. "This is our second year going through this. You think you'd learn to fold your clothes away so you wouldn't be in a frenzy each morning. It's simple, Simon. But you're too simpleminded for simple."

"Fuck you!" He yelled, finding his crumpled shirt in a corner and carelessly throwing it over his head along with his jumper. "I wish I could punch your stupid face!"

"Stupid face... that's a new one," I smirked, imitating a checklist on my palm. "You're ever so creative, Snow."

Suddenly, I heard a scream, and a book soared through the air towards me, breaking my nose and spreading paper cuts on my cheeks.

The book fell to the floor. Blood leaked from my nose. Simon looked horrified. "Merlin..." he whispered. "I actually hit you." I just stood there, speechless. After a few moments, I reached up and wiped away blood from under my nose. I stared at it. There was a lot.

I began to laugh hysterically.

"You fucking idiot!" I laughed, dabbing my face with tissues. "Crowley, have you really forgotten the Anathema, or are you just idiotic enough to ignore it? I can't _wait_ for you to get thrown out. I've been waiting for this day ever since I met you." I waited with my arms crossed for some dark magic to drag him away, kicking and screaming. Or perhaps the Mage would stumble in and tell him just how much of a disappointment he was before kicking him out? The possibilities were so _endless._

But he was quiet. I looked at him a bit closer and almost gasped out loud.

His mouth and hands were frozen. Covered in magickal ice.

"Snow? Snow, speak."

He tried his best to open his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Not even sound at the back of his throat.

 _It must be the Anathema._

"Well, let that be a lesson not to fuck up, you dull walnut. Come on. We have a couple minutes left to run to class."

We made it just in time, our heels passing the doorframe just as it was magickally shut closed.

"Basilton Pitch. Simon Snow. Welcome, you're just in time," Mrs. Possibelf chirped. I admired her. She was a mature and elegant woman that treated students with respect while having fun doing it.

"Mrs. Possibelf, good morning." I said with a short bow. I heard students snicker in the back. I internally rolled my eyes. They can make fun of my respect all they'd like. They're not the ones getting top marks.

My teacher blushed. "Now now, how many times have I told you not to be so modest? I- Basilton, what happened to your face?"

I could wipe away the blood and move my nose back into place, but the papercuts on my face were impossible to hide. I bit my lip. "There was an accident in our dorm room."

Mrs. Possibelf turned to Snow. "Simon, were you hurt as well?"

No answer. More snickers.

"Simon?"

All he could do was aimlessly flail his arms around in a desperate attempt at makeshift sign language. A laugh escaped my throat despite myself, but I disguised it as a cough. Snow saw through and elbowed me in the side.

I held back a grin. "Ahem. Mrs. Possibelf, my roommate threw something at me, and we believe the Anathema has rendered him unable to speak. Thus my wounds and his muteness." She nodded in understanding and glared at Snow.

"Alright. Simon, walk Basilton to the infirmary this instant. Be lucky it is only your second year, or else the Anathema would've been much harsher on you. Do you need another lesson in how to treat your brother for the next few years?" We cringed at the word 'brother.' Snow dutifully shook his head. "Good. Now run along. ...In fact, both of you are suspended for the day. The campus is yours. Use today to mend your friendship so you can return to classes tomorrow hand-in-hand. _Now_ you may go."

 _Aleister fucking Crowley on a Mercedes and a Lamborghini, this is fucked. My second year and this little bitch gets me suspended. What will my father say about this? Fiona would never let me hear the end of it. Honestly, Mrs. Possibelf can suck both of my dic-"_

I felt a tug on my sleeve. I looked back at Snow dragging behind me. "What?" I scoffed.

He looked up at me, unable to say a word. But his eyes were wide and apologetic, just like a year ago.

Our relationship after the first day of school seemed like it would only get better, but it didn't take long for us to be back on each other's throats. He hates me, and I hate him. I still find it hard to believe that the Crucible didn't put us together as a practical joke. Yes, he's the Chosen One. Yes, he could kill me with a single swipe of his magic (if he could actually control it). But Crowley, I hate his whiny guts. If I were to ever drink from a human, he'd be the first. Just so I could shut him up.

But _now,_ his actions led him to shut himself up. And I didn't have to say a single spell.

He kept staring at me, tugging on my sleeve while trying to keep up with my stride and clenching his throat like he was choking. I briefly wondered if he was, then remembered I didn't care.

"Look, are you trying to apologize?" I asked. He nodded in relief, obviously happy to be understood. "Well listen, Snow. I don't care about your apology. You got me suspended for an entire day. This is going on my permanent _record,_ you git. I didn't know the Chosen One would be such a fucking disappointment," I grumbled.

His footsteps sped up. Soon, he was walking in front of me. I couldn't see his face, and I think he intended that.

After a moment, he began to run.

"Shit, Snow, hold on!"

Then I began to follow him.

Finally, he stopped and looked around, panting. We must've run the length of two football courts. About halfway through, I wondered why I was following him. I didn't know. After all that running, I knew my thirst would start to run out of hand.

We looked around where we ended up.

The Wavering Wood.

Secluded, dark, and filled with magickal creatures, good and bad. For all we knew, this was the Humdrum's hometown.

Not to mention, any student under fourth year knew that entering this forest without a professor was suicide.

Snow walked deeper into the Wood.

I jogged up next to him, catching up easily with my long legs. Side by side, I was always taller than him, even with that mess of curls on his head.

We were quiet now. There was a creeping threat of a monster jumping out to attack, but somehow, we were peaceful. Not a single branch was in our way.

I stared at his neck. He had a mole there. He had lots of moles and freckles. They always seemed to make him look more golden than before, especially since he was flushed from running. He looked so alive. I loved it.

Snow turned to meet my eyes, but I looked away, like he didn't exist to me. I caught a glimpse of his eyes. They were red and puffy, just like last year after I first made him cry. _Crowley._

I didn't bother apologizing this time. It wouldn't seem sincere. Also, how could I ever relate to being a disappointment?

We stayed silent. With each step, we went further and further into the Wood.


	4. Year Two, Part Two

With each step, we went further and further into the Wood. Trees towered above us like skyscrapers in London. Beneath our feet were endless mazes of gigantic roots that upturned the dry soil.

I tried several times to tell Snow to turn back, but he never even glanced at me.

Actually, that's a lie. I saw him sneaking a few looks when he thought my hair was covering my peripheral vision. I thought he smiled a few times, too. Maybe because I was still bothering to match his stride.

The trees above were blocking so much of the sun, keeping the area in an invariably dark wasteland. Not to mention, it was getting difficult to see the path where we came from. We were too far deep within. But Snow kept walking, unfazed. I wondered where he got all his bravado.

"Snow," I said softly, "we really should turn back. It could be getting late. When it's too late, the gates will shut on us and we'll have to spend the night out here."

He swiftly turned around, eyes wide with fear. I guess he didn't realize it either. We'd already been in here for quite some time. Immediately, he turned around, walking in the same direction we came from. _Was that really all it took?_

Sighing tiredly, I followed him. I should've turned back when I had the chance. But I couldn't leave him here. He'd die within two minutes. I just... I don't know. I still hate him. He's annoying, he cries a lot, and he's so irresponsible. But I could never leave him to die. I could never leave anyone to die.

Snow stumbled over a branch, letting out a muffled cry as he fell to his knees.

"Aleister fucking Crowley," I grumbled, making my way over to him. I grabbed onto his elbow, swiftly lifting him to his feet (vampire strength).

His knees were scraped. Light trails of blood streaked through his pant legs. The smell of it permeated the air. Immediately, my heart began to race. It dawned on me just how _thirsty_ I was.

And he was right here, so young and so physically weak, and _nobody_ knew we were here together. The opportunity was almost too perfect. Saliva pooled in my mouth.

He stared up at me, his expression growing increasingly more confused. Is he pondering how I lifted him with one arm, or the fact that I'm staring at him like he's something I want to eat?

Blood pumped through my head, making it pound. My teeth began to grow and poke the bottom of my mouth. I couldn't see myself, but I imagine my eyes were bloodshot. That always happens.

My thoughts began to blur. The Wavering Wood faded in the background. All I could see was _him-_ I could see the blood in his veins, his beating heart, his pulse, his human everything, I _need_ it, God, I-

 _"No. Dammit, Baz,"_ I choked, digging my fingernails into a nearby tree. Snow stared in confusion. It was much darker now, so he couldn't see my face as well as I could see his. "Listen... stay here. I have to go for a minute. I'll be right back," I explained quickly. His confusion switched to terror. He shook his head back and forth in retaliation, left with no choice but to watch me run off into the trees with the speed of a bullet.

I must've destroyed some food chains with how many mice and rats I had to drain in order to feel myself again. Any moment longer, and I would've devoured Snow without another moment's hesitation. After wiping any excess blood on my clothes or face, I went back over to Snow.

When I saw him, I almost screamed.

He lay on the ground, motionless, with an enormous rattlesnake wrapping around his body like an anaconda. It must've been thirty feet long.

I instantly recognized the breed.

And I know they have the the most potent venom and strongest grip on their victim known to wizardkind.

I instantly whipped out my wand, pointing it at the beast. " **Rain, rain, go away, come again another day**!" I frantically poured all my magic into my words. By the time the snake uncurled from Snow's body, I felt ready to pass out.

"Simon..." I groaned, grabbing his shoulder and violently shaking him. "Wake up. Wake up!" He was as cold as death. I checked his body three times over for any sort of bite marks, only to find none. _Thank Merlin. He wasn't poisoned._

I swiftly lay him on his back, placing my hand on the front of his chest and pumping as hard as I could with my lessened strength. I easily could've healed him with magic, but I spelled it all away. His chest heaved up and down with my efforts, but his eyes still hadn't opened. No pulse. No movement. He was utterly unresponsive.

I looked away in embarrassment. _If he wakes up and sees this, I'll never walk through Watford halls again._

I placed my pale hands on his red lips, gently parting them open. Swallowing my pride, I lowered my lips onto his and began to give him mouth-to-mouth.

 _Does this count as a first kiss...? ...I don't think so. He's my enemy. And he's a boy... Crowley, he could be dead, for all I know-_

I almost immediately sped up the process. Every few moments, I would switch and go back to chest compressions, then back to giving him oxygen. Each passing second felt like a year. I had no idea if my efforts were simply wasted on a dead boy.

And if he were dead, it would be all my fault for abandoning him. Because I'm a _bloody fucking vampire that can't last long enough to save a life._

Tears began to fill my eyes. My arms were getting exhausted. My throat was killing me. It was dark and I had no clue if another monster was behind me, waiting for me to rescue him so it could devour us both.

Worst of all, Simon was here because of me. If I hadn't been such a dickhead, he would never have wanted to hurt me. We never would've gotten suspended, and we'd be sleeping on our dorm rooms. Instead, we're locked out of our rooms for tonight, and one of us might be dead.

"Come on, Simon..." I whispered. My vision was becoming blurry. I felt furious at myself for being such a careless prat.

 _Mother should've taken you with her down with herself._

 _"_ Come on... wake up! Wake up!" Finally, a few tears slipped out onto Simon's face. " **Wake up**!" My voice came out shouting with the magic. Then my throat went numb. My world was starting to go out of focus. I was out of magic.

I collapsed onto the ground next to him. I felt like all my last energy was drained out of me in an instant. Everything was so hazy and... dark.

"Simon..." I cried, succumbing to the clutches of sleep.

I woke up to the sound of birds chirping. I love that sound in the mornings at Watford; they make going to classes all the more worthwhile. I rolled over in my bed, reaching to stop my alarm clock before it even went off.

But my hand didn't reach the clock. It gripped a thick root growing from beneath the surface.

I sat up abruptly. I looked around, only to see I was still in the Wood.

"Simon," I gasped, rubbing my eyes and staring at the area. My body was numb and my arms ached like hell. "Simon!"

I collapsed right next to him. He should've been _there._ A scavenger wouldn't have stolen his body, right...?

I turned in all directions. The Wood in early sunset had no creatures running around anymore.

Standing up and ignoring my pained limbs, I began to run. I picked up the faint scent of his blood along the way and went as fast as I could in its direction.

Eventually, I saw him. He was by a small river, carrying water in a small jug. My heart started to beat again at the sight of his golden skin, finally alive. I didn't kill him. It was the most relieved I had felt in decades.

"Simon..." I breathed. "You're alive. I can't believe it."

Snow jumped and dropped the jug. "B-Baz? How did you find me here? I'm so far away!"

I scratched the back of my head, cringing at the twigs falling out of it as a result. "Intuition. Anyways, when did you wake up? And how? Last night I..." memories of the CPR came rushing back. A small blush coated my cheeks. "...I tried everything I could to heal you but nothing worked."

Snow scowled. "I highly doubt that. You? Trying to save me? You're lucky that I saved you! I woke up a couple hours ago to find you passed out on the ground!"

"Why do you think I was there, you dolt? I drained all my magic trying to rescue your sorry ass!" I yelled in frustration.

Simon's face contorted into an expression of shock. "Wait... you're being _serious?"_

 _Aleister Crowley._ "Yes."

He pulled leaves out of his hair and started playing with his dirty sleeve. "Merlin, man.. I'm sorry for not believing you. Thanks. I probably owe you my life."

I rolled my eyes. "That's _probably_ the biggest understatement of the year. Come on, Snow. We don't want to miss classes or else it'll be found out we were here." Not bothering to check if he understood, I began to walk towards the school building. I heard the crunching of leaves below his feet as he trotted up beside me.

"I heard you call me Simon," he grinned, his eyes wide and curious.

I turned away. The blood I drank faded from last night, so I didn't have to worry about getting caught blushing. "No, I didn't."

"Yes you did. I heard you. You got so worried, you probably forgot to hate me!"

I shoved him sideways onto a pile of leaves. "Whatever you want to believe, Snow!" I yelled sarcastically.

Snow sat in the pile, contemplating. After a moment, he began to laugh. "Hey. Baz. I have something to show you. Give me your hand."

Raising an eyebrow, I extended my arm. "Okay? What are you-hey!" Simon pulled me into the pile with him, covering my hair with even _more_ bloody leaves. "Snow!"

He threw a couple more leaves at me, all while giggling childishly. "This is payback, you dickhead!"

"Fuck off, Snow!" I yelled, though I was laughing too.

After a few more moments, we made our way back to our dorms and cleaned up. We were still snickering about it on the way to Mrs. Possibelf's. For a minute, I wondered if our relationship would only get better from here. Like we really would be friends-

"Oh, there's my friend. Her name is Penelope. I'll see you later!" And then Simon was off. I rolled my eyes and sneered. Seriously? He chose to walk to class with a girl who wasn't even _in_ this class with us?

He greeted her with a smile. Bunce saw me out of the corner of her eye and shot me a foul glare. Snow saw her, opened his mouth as if to say something, then decided not to go against her.

I guess he really doesn't see me as a friend after all.


	5. Year Three, Part One

The year has only just started, but it's been more eventful than ever. Snow can't stay away from that overprotective prude, Penelope Bunce. She could easily be his mother with how she pretends to take care of him. And I swear, I _swear,_ I've seen her feed him scones before. But they're not dating, certainly not. They wouldn't last a minute. After about thirty seconds of a relationship, Penelope would be so frustrated with his untidiness that she'd spell him out a window. Not to mention, I heard she had an older boyfriend off in America.

I still haven't told Snow about our "kiss." I'm still... unsure about whether it was a kiss. Kisses are when two people are in love and aware of it. I hate Simon (he's disgusting, sloppy, and stupid) and I wouldn't be surprised if he felt the same way. And he was unconscious. Crowley, I was sure he was finally as dead as his brain when he was alive.

So why, pray tell, has it been all I've thought about for the entire summer and most of the year so far? If it _could_ be counted as a kiss, it was definitely not as romantic as I imagined my first would be.

But I usually don't think about that kind of stuff anyway. At least, not really until now.

Ever since I was little, me finding a wife to continue the Egyptian branch of the family has been all my father could talk about. Daphne would gush about how beautiful my children would be all the time (though, looking back, it was a bit weird for her to say that when I was still so young).

But I just... I could never imagine myself fulfilling their fantasies. Maybe I'm too young, but Dev and Niall are always bragging about how many girls are into them (Fucking playboys).

I groaned loudly, slamming my head into my pillow. Thank Crowley that he's out hanging out with Bunce. I wonder if Wellbelove decided to tag along as well, just to see Simon...

 _Simon._ I called him Simon again.

I rolled out of bed and stood up, tidying myself up for dinner with my two friends.

Dinner started off quiet. Dev and Niall ate noisily, stealing food off of each other's plates and throwing it at the other's face. I rolled my eyes. Though they were the only people I could tolerate for more than two minutes, they still continued to act like apes during dinner time.

"No way, Niall, I have had way more girlfriends than you! I bet you've only had one... your right hand!" Dev snickered. Several girls at nearby tables cringed in our direction and began to whisper. I felt heat rise to my cheeks. "If you two geniuses don't shut up, neither of you will have any girls to even have as friends," I retorted indignantly, rolling my eyes. Both boys immediately stopped and noticed the looks from all the other students, sheepishly placing their hands on their laps.

But it wasn't over yet. "Well Dev, since all the girls don't like you, maybe you could get yourself a little homo instead," Niall whispered with a snort.

I stiffened in my seat. The air became thick around me. _Homo._

Niall noticed my silence and turned to face me. His smirk slowly faded away once he saw my discomfort. "Wait... Baz, hold on, are you-"

"No," I answered, a bit too quickly. Both of them sat and stared at me. But none of them recoiled. They just seemed curious.

"Guys, I'm not gay," I growled.

Dev and Niall shared a glance, and then they both grinned at me. "Okay, Ty."

"Stop calling me that."

"Okay, Baz. We don't care anyway if you're gay. You're still our dickwad genius of a friend," Dev joked.

I couldn't help but smile. I don't know why, but that made my heart soar.

I looked out my bedroom mirror. Snow was falling softly on the ground, covering everything but the bottom of tree branches. Deer roamed the area, breaking the pristine white with their hooves. It stars above would've made Mordelia believe they were Santa's reindeer visiting in the night.

 _Christmas break._

The one time of the year where I'm forced to eat with my family, so of course, it's usually not the most fun time. And for the life of me, ever since I've started sleeping in my creaky bed at Watford, I've never been able to fall asleep here without " **Counting sheep 'till you go to sleep!** ," even if the conditions of this room are much more suited to my taste. It's much colder (Snow likes it warmer than the Sahara) and the curtains are always closed (and he wouldn't mind the blinding light either. I should probably ship him there. Just a thought).

Laying on my bed, I pulled the covers over my head.

 _What if Dev and Niall were right? ...Am I gay?_

Probably.

Looking back, I've never liked a single girl. I didn't even enjoy their company in a friendly way. My father always tells me that my lack of cooperation with girls could be because of the loss of maternal love, even with Daphne always providing for us. That one day, I'll push past it and learn how to love.

I do blame myself for my mother's death. It fucking sucks that she died and let me live as a monster. Almost every night, I can't help but visit her grave. After all, I'm finally getting to see it after all these years. It's a bit comforting to know that she never left the school, as if she's still the headmaster rather than that psychopath. But does that mean I can't have a crush? That I'm just "holding back" my attraction to girls because of childhood trauma?

I tried to think of a girl that I would like. Wellbelove came to mind, but as quickly as she appeared, the thought of Simon replaced her.

That goddamn chosen one. Crowley, even without him here, he's still a nuisance.

The kiss wasn't even that great. His lips were so chapped and dry that he could probably stab a bitch with them.

I want his lips to get out of my head. I want his face out of my head. I want Niall's comment to get out, get out, get _out._ I had been thinking about him for the entire year so far, every day. It interfered with everything, my grades, my sleep, my football, everything.

I groaned and rolled over, glancing back at the deer. They were pushing apart the snow, searching for grass to eat. Since when did they eat at night?

Maybe they picked up my habits.

Grabbing my coat off the rack, I go out to have a drink.

When I returned, Daphne was waiting for me at the door with a tired smile.

"Hey, Basilton."

"Daphne. I was just going to bed. Goodnight," I said curtly, striding past her. But she ran up next to me, her long blonde hair swishing in front of her from her momentum. "Wait, Basilton!" Quickly, she grabbed my arm. I instantly recoiled, causing her to let go.

"What do you want? I am trying to get to sleep."

Daphne brought her arms down to her sides, her fingers enclosing into fists. "I... I know I am not your mother. I know that you do not feel close to me. But, Basilton, you don't feel close to anybody in this house, not even your father."

"Daphne-"

"You've been so reclusive for this entire break, so much more than usual!" She was almost yelling now, with tears beginning to prick at her eyes. The sight of her alone was able to silence me. "You've eaten less and started drinking more blood. I just... I want you to know that you can talk to me if you need it. I'm always here for you. I can listen."

I didn't know how to feel. Relaxed? Defensive? Safe? I had no idea what to do. I knew she cared about me. I knew she loved me as her own son. However, I could never bring myself to reciprocate. I just couldn't.

But my feet were moving, slowly. Before I knew it, I was in my stepmother's arms.

She seemed just as surprised as me. But she wrapped her arms around me and held me there in the living room.

Daphne was really warm. So human. I don't think I'd ever let her hold me like this before, not once. I was grateful that she didn't say a word, or express relief that I was finally getting close to her. And I hated myself for only caring about her now because of my own insecurities.

"Basilton... what's wrong? Tell me, sweetie," she whispered, smoothing my hair over my head. I burrowed myself deeper into her arms, trying to hide.

"D-Daphne..." my voice was shaking, but I wasn't crying. I felt like I would burst into tears any minute now, though. My eyes burned. "I think I might be gay."

She jumped the tiniest bit, but quickly reverted back to her calm nature. "How come?"

"I kissed... I kissed a bloke. And I can't stop thinking about it. And his lips were gross and chapped because he takes care of himself as well as a damn homeless person-"

"Language."

"-but I don't feel disgusted. I don't. I... I don't know, I think I want to kiss him again. I'm gay, aren't I? Dad says that I'm avoiding love because of my mother, but then way do I feel this way about my stupid roommate?!"

I gasped and clasped my hand over my mouth.

 _Shit._

"Wait... isn't your roommate Simon Snow?"


End file.
